Samedi Pluvieux
“La sottise, l’erreur, le péché, la lésine,
Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps,
Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords,
Comme les mendiants nourrissent leur vermine”.
Night Walk
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds”.
